


Every Dean has his Day

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crack, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 05:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16906992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: After Dean drinks the potion that makes him act like a dog again, you’re stuck babysitting when it goes wrong. Days stuck with the older Winchester lead to truths being told. But is it just the dog in him talking?





	Every Dean has his Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Tumblr's squirrel-moose-winchester’s Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge!!

**_Warnings_ : My poor attempt at crack (honestly, I tried). Scumbag in a roadhouse. Explicit language. Period talk. Fluff. A bit of angst. Smut (yep… smut). Dirty talk. Fingering. Unprotected sex.**

**Bamby**

When the three of you came across a hunt that looked as if animals were involved, Sam jumped at the chance to try the dog potion again. Dean had glared at his brother the whole time he was mixing the ingredients, and insisted there was, ‘no fucking way’ he was drinking it this time. Unfortunately for him… things don’t always go the way you want them to.

Sam was still recovering from a cold, which had him suffering from some decent headaches. He’d offered to take the potion, but you weren’t sure it would do him much good. So, instead, you were prepared to take it. Dean shut that down in an instant. The second the potion was finished he snatched it from his brother and downed it in one go.

That’s how you ended up here, stuck in one of Rufus’ old cabins, dog-sitting Dean Winchester.

After you figured out that the case had involved a witch, it was a little too late. She was on the three of you the second you got into town, and the instant Dean drank the potion she worked her own magic before getting the hell out of Dodge.

Now Sam was off, hunting with Donna, trying to track the witch down. You, though, were stuck with Dean, who was stuck in the weird dog state the potion had put him in. For three days now he’d been sniffing your butt and humping your leg non-stop.

Lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, you were jolted awake as Dean bounded onto the bed, plopping himself next to you. Groaning, you turned your head to see him kneeling over you, a dopey grin on his face.

_Is it just me… or is he getting worse?_

“Breakfast?” he asked eagerly, smiling like a damned fool.

“Sleep,” you countered, rolling back over to try and do just that.

But Dean wasn’t having it. He nudged at your shoulder with his hand, over and over. He whined a little too, shifting around the bed to the other side so he could meet your face again. When you cracked an eye open you saw him looking at you with puppy eyes that rivalled his brother’s.

_Damn…_

“Fine!” Sighing, you threw the blankets off you and got out of bed. Dean happily followed, keeping barely a step between the two of you as you both headed into the kitchen.

The cabin was pretty much one big room. There was a living area with an old fold-out couch that creaked if you moved too much. The bathroom was off to the side and very small- smaller than a lot of the motel bathrooms you’d suffered through. A fireplace a few steps away from the dining area, and a small kitchen with the essentials- including food that you’d brought here once it was decided Sam would head off to hunt down the witch with Donna.

You were grateful that Dean was at least walking like a person, but there was a bounce in his step that wasn’t usually there. Dean seemed a lot happier being like this.

Fixing up the two of you some bacon and eggs, you dropped the two plates onto the dining table, once again thanking whoever was listening when Dean took a seat across from you. Again, you thanked them when he picked the food up with his hands before stuffing his face. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle him eating like a dog…

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. For the most part, you stuck to the cabin, much like you had since Sam went off. TV distracted Dean like it usually did. When Sam called to check up on the two of you Dean eagerly spoke to his brother, telling him all the ‘fun’ things you’d been doing- dog-Dean was a lot like a child. When the cabin got too stuffy you headed out to a nearby park.

Following a path from the cabin and through the woods, you came across a small park that was part of a national woodlands. The place was empty, thanks to it being a school day and in the middle of a chilled Winter afternoon. That meant you and Dean could run around and play fetch without any weird, accusing or assuming glances from others.

Time flew, and after four hours of playing and running around you called it a night. You sent Dean back to the cabin while you started the short trek to a nearby roadhouse to grab some burgers for dinner. He was exhausted from all the exploring and running he’d done, while you were exhausted just from watching him.

One of the great things about being with Sam and Dean meant that if you went to diners, roadhouses, bars or cafes the sleazy men that frequented those places usually left you alone. Unfortunately, though, with Sam gone and Dean acting oddly, you were left to defend yourself as you headed into the roadhouse.

Less than thirty seconds after you passed the threshold, you could feel the linger gazes of a few men, two of which turned to each other to whisper. You had absolutely no doubt they were talking about you.

_Great._

Sighing, you moved to the counter, resting your forearms on it as you leaned forward and waited for someone to serve you. They didn’t get there fast enough.

“Hey sweetheart,” a man passed the middle-age stage slid into the seat next to you.

You cringed at his use of the word ‘sweetheart’. Dean and only Dean could call you that. But you couldn’t make a scene, not if you wanted food, so you decided to ignore him as you continued to wait.

“Gettin’ some dinner, sweetheart?” he asked, and you literally cringed this time, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “I got something you can-”

Maybe it was because you’d been stuck babysitting Dean for the past few days? Maybe it was because you hadn’t had to deal with scum like him in a while? Either way, you weren’t having a bar of it.

Spinning on your heels, you turned to give him a tight smile. “Dude, if I wanted whatever it is you’re offering I would find someone who isn’t going to make me want to throw up. You stink like three day old stale beer breath. You haven’t showered in about a week. Your beard has got leftover crumbs that look like they’re close to getting mouldy. And your clothes scream hobo. Why would I want to touch you? Please, explain this to me.”

He gawked at you, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to respond but didn’t have the brain capacity to manage it.

“Exactly. So, please kindly fuck off.” You turned back to the counter then, smiling sweetly at the server who was watching with wide eyes. “Two burgers and fries to go, thanks.”

* * *

When you returned to the cabin, Dean was all over you. Sniffing and whining, following you so closely he was actually pressed against you as you headed to the dining table. You tried to shoo him away, once, twice, three times, but no matter how many time you scolded him he was right there, still up against your back.

Sighing, you turned to him. “What has gotten into you?”

He leaned in, sniffing at your shoulder. “I can smell a guy on you.”

You tensed. First of all, it was probably bad that Dean could actually _smell_ someone on you. Secondly, you were really hoping you wouldn’t have to tell him about the sleazebag at the roadhouse. But that can of worms was well and truly open now…

“It’s fine,” you assured him turning back to the table to pull the food out and set it down. “Just some sleazebag who thought he was the shit. Turns out he’s just shit. Full stop. So, can we eat? ‘Cause if we keep talking about him then I’m gonna hurl.”

Relenting, Dean did as you asked and took a seat at the table. He watched you as the two of you ate, though. There was a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite read, but you didn’t pay it much mind. All you wanted was some food in your belly, a hot shower, and then a good night’s sleep.

* * *

Curled under the blankets of the fold out bed, you were fast asleep when you were woken by the feel of the blankets being lifted, the bed dipping and the creaking sound that followed.

Turning, you watched Dean as he settled himself down next to you. In that moment he looked more like his usual self than he had since taking the dog potion. He just laid there, with his head on the pillow as he watched you with those green eyes that made your heart swell.

In the past, the two of you had enjoyed each other’s company but never on an intimate level. You’d joked about it, hinted at it, contemplated it, but neither of you had actually done anything about it. Over the last few days you’d think you’d be seeing him in a different light, but he was just too happy for you not to fall more hopelessly in love with him.

“Did that guy upset you?” he asked out of nowhere.

You frowned, confused. “What guy?”

“The sleazebag.”

“Oh, right.” You shrugged. “Not really. He was gross, but I can handle myself.”

“I know.” He smiled at you sweetly, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Everything froze. You blinked, waiting for his words and their meaning to dawn on him. But he either didn’t get it or didn’t care. He just kept watching you with that unreadable expression.

“Is this the dog in you talking?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Probably.” When your eyes fell, trying to hide the disappointment in them, he went on, “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Lifting your gaze, you met his.

“I think about you a lot. These last few days have been perfect, ‘cause I’ve just been able to hang out with you. Going out to have fun at the park. Watching TV with you in bed. You’ve cooked me bacon and eggs every morning. It’s been great.”

“Dean,” you sighed. “That’s the kind of stuff dogs get excited over. Spending time with their owner. Going for walks. Cuddles. Food. Everything you just said… it’s what dogs like.”

“Yeah, but I like it too,” he noted.

“That’s ‘cause you are a dog right now.” You grinned at him.

As much as you wanted him to have feelings for you, it was pretty clear he didn’t feel the way you did. That was okay, though. You didn’t expect him to like you. He didn’t have to. It wouldn’t change things. You were happy just being friends.

“Come on.” You gave his chest a pat. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll make you some more bacon and eggs, ‘kay?”

He perked up at the promise of more food, before he nuzzled into the pillow. You were fine with him sleeping in the bed with you, knowing it was just because he was a dog and wanted you close by. You didn’t mind. It didn’t mean anything.

_Sam better get back soon…_

* * *

As you stood by the stove, cooking the last of the bacon you had, Dean walked up behind you. It wasn’t odd for him to look over your shoulder to watch you cook. His lips would pout with curiosity, his chin would rest on your shoulder, and he’d just watch.

But there was something different about today. After his admission last night you felt a little jumpier. It seemed he was feeling a little odd as well, because unlike the other days you’d cooked for him, this time his hands came to rest on your hips.

You jumped as soon as he touched you, bumping into the stove which quickly had you pushing back. As you did though, you found your backside bumping into something else…

Tense, you turned your head to meet his gaze. “What is that?”

Instead of answering you, he turned his head into your neck and breathed in. “You smell incredible this morning.”

“New shampoo?” you offered as a lame explanation.

“No,” he groaned, the sound coming deep from his chest. “You smell like me.” His grip on your his tightened as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you more.

This time there was no mistaking it. What you’d felt before and what you were feeling in that moment was definitely not his gun.

Part of you knew you should back away. Dean wasn’t himself, and when you thought about it he could be getting affected by the pheromones from your upcoming period. But then there was the other part of you- that could have been tied to said hormones- that didn’t want to pull away. A part that had wanted Dean to want you for far too long. A part that refused to let this opportunity pass.

_This is wrong. This is so very, very, very wrong…_

You ignored the voice in your head, choosing to enjoy the moment and regret it later. Eyes fluttering shut, you let him rock into you as he breathed in the smell of you.

Rutting against you, Dean’s grip tightened. “Want you.”

“The food will burn,” you noted on a breath.

That made him pause and pull back for a moment. You whined, much like he’d been for the past few days, wanting him pressed against you once more. But as he reached around you and turned the stove off, you understood completely.

With no more excuses being offered, Dean grabbed your arm and tugged you away from the kitchen area of the room. You let him lead you over to the bed, and let out a surprised yelp when he shoved you in front of him and pushed on your back. Your hands flew out to rest on the bed to keep you from falling as you felt him behind you.

“Dean!” you gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Want you,” he repeated simply.

But as he started to tug on the hem of your pants you found some remaining sanity and quickly spun around to face him. “I get that, but you can’t just push me around and pull my pants down.”

“Why not?” He took a step closer to you as he sniffed the air. “You liked it. I can smell it.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you tried to come up with an explanation or excuse to shrug his words off, but you couldn’t come up with anything. You couldn’t come up with a good lie. He wasn’t wrong. You had liked it. Dean getting a little rough and demanding had played on your dormant hormones, and now you were practically drenched between your thighs.

That didn’t change anything, though.

“I get you’ve got dog brain right now, and it’s tell you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I’m not saying that doesn’t sound nice,” you started, making him grin and step closer as his hands found your hips once more, “but why don’t you treat me like a person first?”

He paused, as if that hadn’t occurred to him. Then you watched as confusion and shock crossed his face. “I… I should kiss you, right?”

You chuckled, nodding at him. “It would be a good start.”

Lips tugging up into one of those dopey smiles he’d been wearing the last few days, he leaned in to press a kiss to your own smile. It was like a cliche movie moment, with bells, fireworks, and fluttering butterflies. His lips pressed to yours and everything felt right.

The chaste and sweet moment didn’t last long, though. It seemed kissing you affected Dean more than just smelling you had. His grip on your hips tightened as he stepped closer to grind himself against the front of you. But it wasn’t enough.

“Now?” he breathed against your lips, nipping at them. “Please?”

You tensed. “Are you… are you begging?”

“Would it help?” he asked, still rutting against you as he moved to nip and nuzzle at your neck.

“It would be creepy,” you noted.

But he just shrugged, countering your point with one of his own, “I’m about to bend you over and fuck you because this dog potion has got me all kinds of hard and horny. This was creepy days ago.”

_Well, he’s not wrong…_

“Please, let me turn you around, bend you over, and fuck you.” He bit at your neck then, tugging at the skin with a light snarl, and that’s all it took.

Spinning on your heels, you let him push you down as he pressed himself against your behind. You closed your eyes and groaned a little, fisting the sheets of the fold out couch as he quickly worked at pulling your sleeping shorts down. The two of you were still in your pajamas, which made it easier to undress than if you were in your usual layers and jeans. Dean was in sweats… well he was. Now they were around his ankles.

Thankfully, he didn’t just push right into you. No matter how turned on you were, you still needed some prep work, and despite the dog potion working its magic on him Dean seemed to remember you were still very human. So, instead of doing what you knew he wanted to, he ran his fingers along your folds.

Jumping at the feel of his calloused fingers against your soft lips, you moaned. He groaned right along with you as he dipped two of his fingers inside, pushing them in slowly until they were buried to the hilt. There he stayed, with one hand pressed on your back and the other pressed against you.

Neither of you spoke. You were too focused on drowning in the feel of him inside you, while Dean was too far gone into his new animal instinct to form words. But you didn’t need to speak in order to understand each other.

Each stroke of his fingers was an eager promise, vibrating with the desire to have you properly. When you leaned back into him you were encouraging more. The groans, grunts, moans and whimpers that spilled around you drove your needs higher until Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

Once he was sure he’d worked you open enough, he removed his fingers, lined himself up and pushed into you.

You fell forward, forearms now pressed to the bed as he started to thrust. It wasn’t the usual thrusting you were used to. Dean was more eager, more desperate, more animal, and it was complete and entirely _hot_.

Grasping at the sheets, you held on for dear life. He didn’t just thrust or fuck, he _bucked_. He held your hips and went wild as he pushed in and pulled out of you frantically. He was, quite literally, humping you. He made noises that resembled the ones you heard on the _National Geographic_. There was very little man in him as he thrust bruisingly into you.

When he leaned in closer and hunched over you, he reached a new angle inside that you’d never felt before, and that’s what pushed you over the edge. With a broken scream and drawn out whine, you came. Picking up the pace, losing some of the rhythm as he got a little more frantic, Dean howled as he followed you into his own orgasm.

Out of breath and completely satisfied, the two of you fell onto the bed with him still inside you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close and nuzzle your neck, Dean quickly fell asleep, and it didn’t take long before you drifted off as well.

* * *

Dog Dean was eager and always ready for more. Not just more food, or more play time, but more of you. After you’d woken up you’d wallowed in guilt for all of two seconds before Dean had started kissing your cheek all over. That’s all it took to make you smile and push the guilt away for now.

For the rest of the day you did what you’d been doing since Sam had left, but now Dean would pause every now and then to kiss you all over much like a dog would lick. You’d laugh and push him away, grinning widely as he’d happily bound off to do whatever you were doing at the time.

That night you slept together, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. It was just as animal as before, and left the two of you exhausted. It was really no wonder you slept in the next day.

* * *

“What the hell?”

Bolting up in bed, clutching the sheets to your body, you found yourself staring wide eyes at Sam as he stood in the doorway of the cabin, looking from you to his brother. Dean roused from his sleep with a groan, blinking at you for a moment before he spotted his brother.

“Dude!” he quickly covered you with more blankets, not caring that he was also naked and on full display.

Sam’s hand shot up to cover his eyes as he turned away with a grimace. “Really, guys? You thought now would be a good time to work out your unresolved sexual tension and unrequited love issues?” he groaned.

The brief moment where Dean had been a little more human than dog was over. He looked to you and blinked, not having a response. You rolled your eyes and threw the blankets off you, reaching for one of Dean’s flannels.

“Get dressed, Dean,” you ordered, and without missing a beat he did exactly that. “It’s not like this was planned, Sam,” you hissed, pulling on your sweats before starting on the buttons of the flannel. “And don’t you dare judge. You’ve done some nasty shit, too.” You glared.

He just huffed in response.

“So, you’re back. I assume you found the witch and killed her?”

“Yep.”

“And did you find a way to reverse Dean’s… issues?” you asked as you glanced at the older Winchester who had stopped getting dressed to scratch his ear, pants half way up his legs. “Clothes, Dean,” you reminded him.

As Dean continued to dress Sam nodded, still covering his eyes and facing away from you. “Yeah, I got a recipe for a potion from Rowena. After we killed the witch Donna helped me look through her stuff to find some tricky ingredients. I can make it here.”

“Good.” You quickly pulled your hair out of the flannel top with a sigh. “We’re dressed now.”

There was a pause before Sam turned to peek through his cracked fingers. Seeing that you were both in fact dressed, Sam lowered his hand and gave you a pointed look. But he didn’t say anything. He knew better.

* * *

Dean was sitting at the table, watching you with that dopey smile. You couldn’t help but blush and smile back, averting your eyes every now and then. Sam was at the kitchen counter, finishing up the potion, ignoring you and his brother.

You knew there was a chance that at the end of this Dean would regret everything, and could end your friendship. But you weren’t going to let that ruin the moment while it was still around. You were going to enjoy this for as long as you could. You weren’t going to waste any time you could have with Dean.

Unfortunately, that time was now up.

Sam placed a cup of mud-like sludge in front of his brother. “Drink up.”

When Dean continued to smile at you, you gestured to the cup. “Go on.”

Smile slipping into a look of curiosity, he looked down at the cup. If Dean was really himself he would have cringed at the thought of having to drink something so gross. But Dean was a dog, and dogs didn’t care what they had to eat. So the sludge was gone in a matter of seconds.

_If he doesn’t hate me we are so not kissing until he brushes his teeth._

“It might take a while before it kicks in,” Sam noted. “Could make him drowsy, too. You wanna stay here, or head back to the Bunker?”

“You brought the truck back, right?” you asked and he nodded. When Dean started to blink slowly you shrugged. “Take him home. I’ll clean up here and head back later.”

Not asking any questions or making any comments, Sam did what you said. He helped his brother up and lead him outside, grabbing his bag on the way. You stood and moved to watch, catching Dean’s eye as his brother guided him into the car. Standing in the doorway of the cabin, you didn’t look away once as Sam drove off, Dean’s puppy dog eyes glued on you until the car disappeared around the corner.

* * *

When you got back to the Bunker it was dark. You parked the truck out the front and started to head inside, carrying the stuff Dean had left behind and your own things. When you started down the winding stairs of the Bunker you came to a pause as you spotted Dean walking into the war room, a beer in hand. During the whole time he’d been a dog he hadn’t had a single sip of beer.

“Heard you come in,” he noted, stopping by the table.

Reaching the floor, you moved towards the table, stopping across from him. “Like… you heard me because of some residue dog senses?”

“No,” he chuckled. “You always slam the door.”

“Right.” You nodded, dumping the things on the table. Rummaging through it all, you grabbed your stuff before stepping back. “Well… I think I’m gonna head off to bed. Long drive and all.” You gave him a tight smile before turning to leave.

“Y/N.”

You froze.

You didn’t want to freeze. You wanted to run. Every part of you wanted to run and scream so you wouldn’t have to hear what he was about to say, because you knew it was going to be bed. You knew he regretted it all. You knew he was going to apologise. You knew it, and you really didn’t want to hear it.

But there you were, frozen on the spot, stupidly waiting for him to rip your heart out.

“Look at me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you refused to do that. “You can say what you have to say to my back.”

Sighing, he put his beer on the table before walking around until he was standing in front of you. Even then, though, you kept your gaze on the ground. But it was good enough.

“You think I’m going to tell you I regret it. You think I hate what we did. You think it disgusts me.”

“It should.”

He shook his head, taking a step closer to you. “It doesn’t.”

“How can you say that?” You looked up to met his gaze then. “Dean, you were a dog.”

“I was still a human. I was still me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “By the second day you were sniffing my butt while I slept.”

Tensing, eyes wide, he stuttered for a second before managing, “You heard that?”

“I _felt_ it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Rolling your eyes again, you shook your head. “Dean, you were playing fetch and asking for belly rubs. You fucked me like a dog would.” There, it was out in the open. “You bent me over and fucked me, quite literally, doggie style. How can you tell me you were human when everything you did felt very dog-like?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “I was a dog. I acted like a dog. I thought like a dog. I even talked like a dog sometimes. But I didn’t feel like a dog. I felt like me. And everything I told you was true.”

“It was the dog talking,” you argued.

“Of course it was the dog talking,” he agreed. “I’ve been hiding the truth from you for years. You think it’s a coincidence that I tell you everything after I’ve messed around with a potion and turned myself into some weird dog-like human? I’ve never had the guts to tell you the truth before, and I probably never would have. The dog just took away the fear. So, will you please stop arguing with me and let me kiss you already? _Please_.”

Your lips tugged into a grin. “Are you begging?”

“Oh shut up.” Grabbing your face he pulled you to him, crashing his lips to yours.

**Bamby**


End file.
